


Back To The Past (And Then Some)

by ti99ck4



Series: The bad news is time flies. The good news is you’re the pilot. [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (sorry lol), Amara and Chuck Shurley Make Up, Angst, Apocalypse, Bickering, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ew, F/M, Fluff, Jessica Moore Lives, M/M, No Incest, No Smut, Other, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pre-Season/Series 12, Slow Burn, Stanford Era (Supernatural), Stanford Student Sam Winchester, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Travel, its gonna be a long ride so hang in there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ti99ck4/pseuds/ti99ck4
Summary: “We’ll send you back. Back to the beginning.”Or, post Season 11, Episode 23, Chuck and Amara make Dean a one time offer: a chance to go back to before he reunited with Sam in Palo Alto and set things straight.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: The bad news is time flies. The good news is you’re the pilot. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904434
Comments: 128
Kudos: 535
Collections: Better Versions of Supernatural, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Chapter One: Pre-Pilot

“Dean, you gave me what I needed most.”

He smiled slightly at that. At the end of the day, Dean supposed he and Amara weren’t so different. All she’d ever wanted, from the Beginning to now, was her family. Her brother. She didn’t want to be alone. And, he thought, neither did he.

Amara turned to Chuck, looking him directly in the eye. Dean stood watching as a thousand words passed silently between them. He was an outsider, watching a moment that would send most people into a spiritual stupor. Watching two halves of the same whole speak words he couldn’t hear. Could the Light and Darkness communicate telepathically? Was that something they could do? He wouldn’t exactly be surprised if it was but-

“Yes and no, Dean. Speaking on a separate plane of existence. You can’t hear it.” Chuck said, waving a hand out to dismiss the question, “Listen... you’ve done a lot for us and, well, we want to give you something back.

“Something back?” he parroted with a frown. What could he possibly want or need from Chuck and Amara? Sure, he wasn’t exactly at the top of his game or the happiest person in the world, but he had everything that he needed waiting for him back in the bunker. Back  _ home. _ He had Sam and Cas. He had Baby. He had pie and beers sitting in the fridge and his set of tapes to listen to while he cleaned the bunker’s kitchen. He had anything he could ever get while still being in the life he’d known for so long.

“This is a one time deal, ok? You refuse and it doesn’t come back.” Chuck said warily, “Do you understand?”

Dean nodded slightly, but he really didn’t understand. He understood that Chuck was about to offer him something, and that something was obviously pretty important, but other than that he had absolutely no idea what was going on or whether he would want to even accept Chuck’s offer. Deals with higher beings didn’t exactly have glowing reviews from Winchesters.

“We’ll send you back. Back to the beginning.”

“What?”

“October tenth, 2005. We’ll send you and one person of your choice back to the start.”

October tenth, 2005. Exactly twenty one days before Dean had arrived at Sam’s apartment in Palo Alto and upheaved his entire life in his quest to find their father. Before Azazel and Lilith. Before Ruby. Before Hell, before Heaven. Before everything.

“So-So, what, you guys are the DeLorean and I’m gonna Marty Mcfly my way to 2004?”

Chuck laughed softly, “More or less. The question is, who are you going to take? I can bring Sam here if you’d like to take him.”

“No.” Dean said, abruptly, “Not Sam.”

Definitely not Sam. If Sam was sent back, he’d lose every opportunity that had been presented to him. His future, his apple-pie life, his girlfriend. Everything he had ever wanted. No, Dean thought grimly, he was going to fix this all for Sam. He’d make things right. Sam would get to go to Stanford’s law school and become some big shot lawyer. He’d marry his girl, Jessica, and go live in some normal, white picket fence house in a suburb in California. He’d have kids, get a dog, live his life the way he would have if Dean had never shown up that night. He’d get to live to old age, never worrying about monsters in his closet or ghosts and ghouls following him around. No, he wouldn’t bring Sam.

That left-

“Castiel. I’ll take Cas back with me.” he stated firmly.

Sam would remember him whether or not he was sent back and they’d already have a relationship, although slightly strained. Cas would never have met him and go back to being a drone for the God Squad, go back to being a  _ stranger _ . That hurt, to be honest, to imagine his closest friend not even knowing him. And, frankly, he really wasn’t looking forward to convincing Cas he had free will for a second time and teaching him how to not be a winged dick. No, taking Cas back with him was the smartest choice. Selfish maybe, but Dean was alright with that. It was worth it.

“You’re sure?” Chuck asked, raising his eyebrows in search of conformation.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” He said, watching closely as Amara waved a hand and Cas appeared at Dean’s side stumbling slightly before staring at his friend and tilting his head in confusion. 

“Dean?”

“Hey, Cas.”

Chuck coughed, regaining both hunter and angel’s attention, “Castiel… As I’ve already told Dean, I’m going to send you both back to 2005. I’ll just shove you back into your old bodies, merge your current and past souls- grace, in Castiel’s case- let’s just not get into specifics.”

Cas frowned, “My vessel-”

“Will be perfectly fine.” Amara said with a smile, cutting him off.

Chuck nodded, “I’ll whip you up a perfect replica of one James Novak circa 2005. Jimmy will be fine.”

Jimmy would be fine. Jimmy would get to live his life in peace with his wife and with Claire. They’d live their lives like they were meant to: normal.

Castiel’s lips pressed into a small, closed smile, “Alright.”

Dean, however, scowled slightly, “What about you two?”

Chuck’s hand entwined with Amara’s, “I think we’ll spend some time talking and maybe even being human…”

“And us? Earth?”

Chuck smiled something wise and patient, “Earth will be fine. It has you and Castiel and Sam, though he won’t really know it.” Dean blinked slowly at that. God just told  _ him _ that the world would be fine while he went on extended vacation because  _ he _ was here.

“Just know,” Chuck warned, “That this is a done deal and you won’t be able to get back. This timeline will be erased and reset. It’s a final decision.”

Erased. He’d go back, but he’d never get back to this exact moment. To  _ now _ .

“Are you ready?” Amara asks, pulling Dean out of his thoughts.

He glanced at Cas, who gave him a small, reassuring nod, before turning back to the two entities, “Yeah. We’re ready.”

And then the world went black.


	2. Chapter Two: Pre-Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up and Chuck and Amara leaves a message.

Dean groaned, sitting up on top of… a bed? A car. No, scratch that. He was in  _ his _ car. Baby. He could hear the rattling of the legos in the air vents and feel the all-too-familiar scratch on her leather seats from a hunt long forgotten. The air was warm but stiff. Comfortable. He was sitting in Baby and…  _ holy shit _ his chest ached. His chest ached a lot. Assuming that “soul merging” was anything like the soul reading that Cas had done on that kid, Aaron, it made sense.

“You could’ve mentioned that whole ordeal was gonna hurt, guys.” He grumbled up at the ceiling in the hopes that Chuck or Amara would hear him.

Hearing a shallow murmur from the back seat, Dean whipped his head around swiftly, only to find Cas slumped up against the window and very much asleep. He huffed in relief, studying him carefully. He did look much younger than he had in 2016, and if Dean had to guess he would say that he was only around thirty or thirty one. His hair was an absolute mess, but he still donned his familiar suit, tie and trench coat. Dean, on the other hand, looked down to find himself wearing his old leather jacket, one that had been destroyed and trashed on a hunt years ago (or would it be in the future, he wondered). He also wore his old amulet around his neck, and for a minute Dean almost laughed. The amulet that was used to search for God was worn on the neck of a man who had been brought here by God. He glanced down, studying his hands. All the familiar scars and crooked fingers that had graced his body before Cas had dragged his ass out of hell and built him back up without all the imperfections were still there. It was odd, he thought as he stared at himself in the rearview. He was twenty six again and it was 2004.

Turning around and reaching a hand back, Dean shook Castiel’s shoulder, “Rise and shine, sweetheart. We’re on a mission from God.”

Holy  _ crap _ . Did he always sound this way when he was twenty six? His voice was upbeat and awake, more  _ alive. _ He certainly sounded younger. 

Cas in return, swatted his hand away with a low mutter, “I’m well aware, Dean.”

Dean grinned, moving back and turning to rest his feet on Baby’s passenger side seat so he could turn his head to face the angel, “Great, becau-”

Dean paused, feeling something heavy in his pocket.

Frowning, he reached for it, pulling out a flip phone and ugh, that’s right, the great year 2004, three years before the first iphone and even longer still until phones could actually do things that were  _ cool _ . He flipped it open carefully and slowly navigated his way to the messages. He hadn’t used one of these in forever, and had quite honestly forgotten what a pain in the ass they were. His eyes widened slightly, seeing an unknown number waiting in his inbox.

_ I took the liberty of giving you a little gift to help you out in the trunk. If you need anything call or text this number. If that doesn’t work, pray. I’ve got you both on “skip to the front of the line” for prayers. Maybe the four of us can get burgers next time you’re near my place. _

_ P.S tell Castiel I’ve upgraded him. Slightly more powerful than a seraph, less so than an archangel. He can name the category since he’s the first of his kind. _

_ Good Luck. - Chuck _

Dean sighed, passing the phone back to Cas to let him read it himself because he really didn’t feel like repeating the message aloud.

Cas, though slightly confused, took the phone as Dean opened Baby’s door and stepped out to check the trunk.

Dean huffed, looking around as he steadily made his way around the car. It was warm and the green forests that surrounded the two-lane road that Baby sat beside seemed thick and wild, though giving no hints as to where Chuck and Amara had dumped him off at.

He shrugged, opening the trunk and seeing two angel blades and a familiar, dull metal key with a pale pink sticky note decorated with neat writing in black pen.

_ It's your home, you certainly deserve it. _

_ Amara _

Whispering a silent thank you, Dean turned to see Cas stepping groggily out of the car, “You awake?”

“Yes, it would appear so. What was in the trunk?”

Grasping each blade, Dean handed one off to Cas and pocketed the key before Cas handed his cellphone back to him, “One for you and one for me. You figure out what you're going to call yourself now, Mr. High-Level-Seraph?”

Cas glared at him, taking the angel blade and examining it carefully in his hands, “I believe I’ll just continue to refer to myself as an angel.”

Dean smiled, shrugging, “Suit yourself.”

“These blades have no names.” Cas stated gruffly.

“Names?”

“Angel blades are inscribed on a subatomic level with their owners’ names. These have none. I’m assuming it is to avoid their true origins from being revealed to Heaven, should we have an unfortunate encounter with the angels.”

“Huh. Any idea where we’re at?” 

Cas looked around curiously before pausing and speaking, “It appears that we’re in Southern Louisiana. Roughly forty five miles outside of the city of New Orleans.”

“Right… Right. I was going to work that, uh, voodoo thing my dad sent me in New Orleans and stopped here beforehand to sleep. I shouldn’t be getting the call with the evp on it from him until the thirtieth and then I went and got Sam on the thirty first.”

“What do you suppose we do first, then? That case still needs to be taken care of before we can handle the demon possessing Sam’s friend.”

Right. Bryce or Ben or whatever the hell his name was would be heading for Jess as soon as Sam went to Jericho. Not that he would be heading to Jericho this time around. Either way, the demon still needed to be handled. That could wait, though. Dean was starving.

“First”, Dean started, clapping his hands and making his way back to the driver's seat, “We eat. Then we figure the rest out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kind reception of this <3 I was slightly hesitant to post it, as I've never posted any of my Supernatural works in the years I've been in the fandom. A reminder since many of you may not have read my other works: I gauge the success of my chapters via comments and write the next chapters based off of the reception I receive so don't be afraid to give an honest review and tell me what you'd like to see in the next chapter or in later chapters!!


	3. Chapter Three: Pre-pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas make a stop.

Cas grimaced as Dean quite messily chewed through his second sandwich. They stopped about ten minutes inside the New Orleans city limits and had entered the first decent looking diner that Dean saw, which happened to be a quaint little place that slightly resembled a cabin off of the main road. It was warm and friendly, and the waitress had been very kind, in Cas’ opinion. The tables were decorated with red and white checkerboard clothes, and oil lanterns furnished the tables rather than candles or flowers. Overall, Castiel found it to be a quite enjoyable place, save the occasional loud chatter from a group of teenagers sitting in a booth in the corner. Dean had ordered two BLTs as soon as he’d seen them on the menu because “I’m not turning down a sandwich with bacon, Cas.” So now Castiel sat across from him, letting out a small huff, 

“Is it truly necessary that you eat so loudly, Dean?”

Dean scoffed, “Is it ‘truly necessary’ that you keep stealing fries off my plate when you think I’m not looking?”

Cas shrugged, taking another, “I enjoy them.”

That part was true. Cas did quite enjoy eating still, just not anything that was overcomplicated like his failed attempt of a pb & j. He could taste every ingredients’ molecules and the machines that had processed the food. He did guess that if he really wanted to, he could try to switch off the “molecule” processing part of his brain to get the actual tastes of food as Gabriel had, but it would be wasting far too much power for something so silly. Fries were easier to enjoy, in any case. They were simple, just potatoes, oil and salt and barely any processing. They were easy to enjoy.

“I thought that food tasted like atoms and stuff to you now that you’re an angel again?”

“Oh, it does. I just enjoy the eating process.” he replied, pointing at Dean with a fry, “You would too if you were an angel.”

“You enjoy chewing and digestion?” Dean asked, puzzled.

Cas smiled, reaching forward to take another fry from Dean’s plate, “Yes, I suppose I do.”

Dean nodded, taking another bite of his sandwich and taking a slow sip from his beer, “Well next time get your own plate, buddy. I don’t do sharing.”

“You won’t even finish them.” Cas argued, “You never finish them when you get two sandwiches. And I don’t eat enough of them to warrant getting myself a serving.”

Dean, having no argument for that, simply stuck out his tongue and continued to eat while Castiel continued talking, “In any case, I believe we have more pressing matters at hand, Dean.”

Dean grimaced, “Straight to business then? I say we call Bobby, get someone else to finish up the voodoo case and head to the bunker to set up camp.”

Cas frowned, “We’re already here, we may as well work the case.”

Dean groaned, pulling out his wallet to throw some bills down on the table, “Can’t we have someone else do it? I friggin’ hate witches, Cas. You know that. ‘Sides, this case was a pain the first time around. I felt like crap for a week and a half.”

“Technically, there is no witch, Dean. Whoever is doing voodoo here is a practitioner, not a witch. Not to mention you’ve already done this case once, doing it again should be a quick job. A milk run.”

Dean stood, rolling his eyes, “I hate it when you’re right, ya know. Alright, first the case, then we head home and make an actual plan. Capiche?”

“Yeah, I capiche.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The case had, in fact, been a milk run, as much as Dean hated to admit it. 

They’d gotten to the witch’s (“Voodoo practitioner, Dean.” “Potato, Tomato.” “I do not believe that is the saying.”) hideout much faster than Dean had the first time he’d handled the case. The original case work had taken him a week to finally reach a conclusion and find out where the witch was conducting his work. The witch, a squirmy little guy that Dean hadn’t bothered to learn

the name of, had been dropping bodies in an attempt to reanimate them using voodoo and spewed some crap about wanting to find a cure for death to bring back his deceased partner and nothing more. He was conducting his experiments in an abandoned cabin deep in the Louisiana bayou, which Dean had most definitely not enjoyed, even though the weather was much more mild compared to the summer heat. With the help of a few witch killing bullets and Cas’ new, souped up powers, they’d been in and out of New Orleans in three days and were en route to Lebanon, Kansas via the I-35 N.

Around halfway through the fifteen hour drive, somewhere near Norman, Oklahoma, Castiel turned to Dean and then back to stare outside the windshield, heavy clouds rolling lazily over the sunset-painted horizon, “How are you, Dean?”

Dean, in return, glanced at him in confusion before turning his eyes back to the road, “What brings this on?”

“I don’t know.” Cas answered honestly, “I know you want to fix… well,  _ everything _ that’s happened in the past twelve years and that is truly a monumental task that must be weighing on you. I want to know how you feel.”

Dean smiled at him, shaking his head and readjusting his hands on Baby’s steering wheel, “I’m good, man. I mean I’m great, really. This is a second chance. It’s gonna be difficult as Hell, I know that, but I think we can do it. We’ve got the upper hand here. We’re gonna fix Hell and Heaven and all that mess and save all the people we couldn’t the first time around… and then me and you’ll do something together. See the world, maybe. I’m sure they’ve got things to hunt in Hawaii, huh? Long as you don’t mind flying us, of course. I ain’t a fan of planes.”

At that, Cas beamed and folded his hands neatly in his lap, “I think I’d like that, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for your feedback and comments <3 not only do they make my day, but seeing so any on a story I wasn't sure was going to do well had encouraged me to post two chapters of this story on its designated posting days (every three days) compared to my usual one chapter per work on its days. Thank you again and I hope you all enjoy today's two chapters!!


	4. Chapter Four: Pre-Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas make it home.

Pulling up slow and steady outside of the bunker’s weathered entrance, Dean smiled, “Home, sweet home.”

Castiel, who was rather tired of the slow, drawn out drive they had just finished, glared pointedly, “You still need to take the warding down so I can come in, Dean.”

Dean shrugged with a mischievous grin, “Or I could leave you here as punishment for eating my fries.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.” he replied, patting Baby’s seat and exiting the car before Cas could get another word in.

Dean inhaled, looking around carefully as he stepped out and stood next to Baby. If there was something stronger than deja vu, that’s what he’d use to describe what he was feeling at that moment. He fished the key quickly out of his pocket and walked towards the door, spinning around to give an irritated Castiel a thumbs up and a grin before inserting the key and opening the door.

Entering the dark, empty bunker, Dean let out a sharp cough. He had forgotten, after years of living here, just how dusty and stale it was the first time they’d entered it. He’d forgotten the good hour and a half he and Sam had spent dusting and cleaning the abandoned bunker. Whatever, nothing he hadn’t done before, he thought as he moved closer to the box full of practically ancient breakers and switches. Glancing cautiously around the now well-lit bunker he smiled to himself. It was exactly the same as he and Sam had found it, after the whole Henry and Abbadon ordeal. The chess board sat exactly as it was, and the markers sat unmoving on the war room table.

Coughing once more, he slowly worked his way through the library and down to the lowest part of the bunker to power down the angel warding.  _ Just _ the angel warding. God-  _ Chuck _ forbid yellow-eyes or Meg stopped in for a chat because he’d removed the wrong warding. No, that was just an accident waiting to happen. It was a much safer bet to just take down the angel warding and hope no angels decided to pop in and stir up trouble.

“Self-righteous bastards.” he muttered to himself, making his way up the stairs to go and retrieve his things and Cas from Baby. Now that they had the bunker back, maybe he could take the next week or two (what was the date? Right, October fourteenth now. T-minus seventeen days until they had to go rescue Sammy and Jess) to not only plan, but to make the bunker  _ home  _ again.

“Alrighty, Cas.” he called, working his way around to Baby’s trunk to retrieve his things, “Warding’s down, we’re good to go.”

Cas, who stiffly climbed out of the passenger seat and made his way to the rear of the car to help, nodded, “Mhm. What now then?”

“First, I’m gonna put my things away and shower.” He grunted, grabbing his largely empty duffle bag from Baby’s trunk because, ah yes, this was far before he had expanded his collection of disguise to include preacher’s clothes and suits and blue collar workers’ uniforms. Before he had added the FBI and CIA and every other badge in that general area of expertise to his ever expanding assembly of fakes. 

“And while I do that,” he started, lifting up Baby’s hidden compartment and propping it open with his sawed off, “ _ you _ will be on clean up duty.”

Cas, in return, rolled his eyes and watched his friend pick and choose which weapons to bring inside, “Dean, I am several billion years old and a former warrior of the Heavenly Host. Surely there is more for me to do than ‘clean up duty’.” Emphasising the last phrase with finger quotes with no real heat behind them.

Dean shrugged as they made their way inside and down the stairs, “Sure, but for now? You, Cas, are Alfred and you’re cleaning up the Batcave. Then, me and you are gonna sit down in the library and get an actual  _ plan _ going. Sound good?”

Dean smiled, clapping a hand on Cas’ shoulder as he made his way towards the room that had been and would be his.

Cas scoffed, rolling his eyes and calling after him, “You’re on ‘clean up duty’ next time, Dean!”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

The next few weeks consisted entirely of discussion and planning until Dean and Cas had come to a plan that was scrawled messily on an a pale yellow pad of paper:

  
  


_ Dean and Cas’ World Saving Plan: _

  * _Get anti-possession tattoos (And it was at this point, the first on the list, that Cas and Dean had begun to argue. Until, of course, Dean had pointed out that Crowley was able to jump into Sam’s body with Gadreel inhabiting it and Castiel had begrudgingly surrendered.)_


  * Get anti-angel rib carvings (And then the arguing had started again and Cas had warned that Heaven would notice if Dean suddenly dropped off their radar and for now it was safest if he was able to track him. Dean had sighed and agreed before crossing it out and moving on to the next point.)


  * Demon proof Baby


  * Wait for Dad’s call


  * Visit Sam & warn him


  * Trap the demon in Brian or whatever his name is


  * Interrogate Brandon


  * Demon proof Sam’s apartment?


  * Get the colt/Save Daniel Elkins


  * Jericho, Blackwater Ridge, Lake Manitoc, Demonic plane, Bloody Mary, St. Louis Shifter, Hook Man, Bugs in oasis plains, Lawrence


  * Find Dad?



After Cas had bluntly told him that this was a, “Not nearly an adequate list.” Dean had grumbled that it was just a rough draft and he would create a separate one of just hunts he’d done in the past twelve years later, which Cas had deemed a satisfactory response.

And so they slowly worked their way through their list.

Finding a tattoo parlor had been easy enough, and with Cas offering to heal them post-appointment, the whole ordeal had taken less than three hours and they were on their way to ‘Demon-proof Baby’ next. A clean, blood red devil’s trap was painted carefully and precisely on the inside of Baby’s trunk and on the underside of her seats.  Next, they went ahead making bullets. Well,  _ Dean _ made bullets (Holy oil that Cas fetched from Jerusalem once more, dead man’s blood, and devil’s trap bullets as well as the classic rock salt loaded shot shells, silver, and witch-killing bullets) while Castiel meticulously decorated burlap sacks with devil’s traps, as Crowley had done when Barry or Bruce or whoever was captured the first time. They’d loaded all of these items into Baby, checked and rechecked their placement, and waited rather impatiently for John’s call over the next two days.

And finally, on October twenty ninth, the voicemail came through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised: the second chapter of the day <3 If you're an It/Reddie/Stranger Things stan, I suggest checking out my other works!! See you all in three days for the next updates <3 :)


	5. Chapter Five: Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas take a trip. Sam gets a visitor.

Driving down the I-80 East at a speed that Castiel deemed “hardly legal”, Dean grinned. They were roughly four hours through their twenty three and a half hour (1,604 mile) drive to Palo Alto, the sound of “Eye of the Tiger” flowing strong from Baby’s open windows. They’d already been packed and ready to go, each carrying their angel blades and Dean’s ivory-handled colt tucked neatly inside of his worn, green duffel bag.

Turning the music down and rolling his window up, Dean’s eyes shifted from the road to Cas, who sat quietly with the ghost of a smile on his lips, “Something on your mind?”

Cas opened his mouth thoughtfully before closing it again and trying again, “I was thinking…”

“That’s always a bad idea.”

“Very funny.” Cas replied dryly before continuing, “I was thinking that maybe sometime in the near future I would very much like to get a new car. I quite miss my old one.”

Dean paused, confusion crossing his face, “The pimpmobile? Your, uh what year was it- Your ‘78 Lincoln Continental?”

Chuck, that car was a wreck. It was a hideous brown/gold, whatever and was honestly the best possible example for a lemon he could possibly produce. That awful lowrider that Cas seemed to hang onto had been stolen by Metatron, which severely disappointed Cas (though not nearly as much as when Sam called the Lincoln crappy).

Cas nodded, “I had grown fairly attached to it before I was, well, possessed by Lucifer and he ‘ditched it’ somewhere. Besides, it may be easier for us to split up if we have two cars and need to drive.”

Dean sighed, smiling exasperatedly, “Personally, I think that car was crap.”

Cas frowned at him as he continued, “ _ But _ I think you’re right about needing two cars, so  _ maybe _ \- and it’s a big frickin’ maybe because that car was awful- we can find you a new one.”

Cas beamed, “Thanks, Dean.”

Whatever. Cas was right. Two cars would be useful, especially considering Cas’ almost compulsive need to fly rather than sit shotgun. So, yeah, getting Cas a car he would enjoy driving would be essential if he didn’t want to go around announcing that he was travelling with an angel like he lived in some sort of bad 80’s buddy comedy. Not that Cas’ Lincoln screamed “inconspicuous”, but he had liked it and it didn’t exactly say “Angel of the Lord”. And, to be fair, if Dean couldn’t fully repay him for all the crap he’d helped him and Sam through for the past eleven, twelve-ish years, he could certainly get him his crappy little car.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s still a maybe.” he mumbled as his face flushed. 

Turning up the music, which had since switched to ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dressed Man”, Dean smiled and thought about just listening to music in Baby with Cas. Yeah, he could get used to this.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Dean sighed, bringing a hand up and dragging it down his face. He was nervous, really nervous. Sure, he had been nervous the first time he’d shown up in Palo Alto but this was… different. This time, he  _ knew _ what would happen if Sam went with him to Jericho, he knew the demon was residing in the body of Sam’s friend Beau (was it Beau? Whatever, who cares.), and knew that Jess was going to die. Though Sam did too, he supposed. He’d had his nightmare about Jess dying by this point, and that was something Dean was glad he knew about. It gave him leverage and proof (Not that he would be telling Sammy about his time travel).

What Dean didn’t know- or rather who- was Sam himself. He knew almost nothing about 2004 Sam Winchester other than his girlfriend’s name was Jessica Moore, he had a fair amount of friends, and he wanted to go to Stanford Law School. At this point in time Dean hadn’t spoken to his brother in nearly two years and hadn’t seen him face to face in almost four.

And now here he was at his little brother’s apartment well after midnight, sitting with his best friend and dreading walking up to the door.

Next to him, Cas appeared to sense his apprehension and placed a steady hand on his shoulder, “Dean. This will go well, I assure you.”

Dean swallowed, sending Cas a small grimace before nodding and stepping out of the car. Cas followed soon after, standing and assessing their surroundings. This was a nice place and Cas  _ could _ imagine Sam living somewhere like this and leading a normal life. In the many years he had known Sam, he was always more empathetic and gentle when it came to “normal” people and often went after that normal domesticity as much as he could while still being a hunter. He smiled, imagining a Sam Winchester who didn’t hunt and who lived a long, happy life before turning back to Dean, “I’m assuming you will want me to lie about my origin when we talk with Sam, yes?”

Dean winced, “Yeah, sorry buddy. I don’t wanna send Sam into shock just yet. He doesn’t even know vampires exist, let alone anything like angels. Better to give him the impression you’re just another hunter than a super-battery packed inside a custom-made vessel, eh?” 

Cas nodded slowly, keeping his pace even with Dean’s as they walked towards Sam’s apartment, “Besides-”

Cas scowled, “That’s how you become president. You’ve told me before, Dean, even though that makes no sense. Should a leader not be honest?”

Dean shrugged, raising a hand and knocking on the dark wood of the front door, “Probably, yeah.”

Hearing a small crash and hushed conversation being had from inside the apartment, Dean winked towards Cas, raised a finger to his lips, and shoved his hands into his pockets, facing the door.

“Do you have any idea-”, the door swung open, revealing a very irritated Sam, who choked on his words and fell silent at the sight of his brother at the door. 

Dean laughed, giving him a lopsided grin, “Heya, Sammy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted a bit later than I'd hoped, but here they are!


	6. Chapter Six: Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets a visitor and Jess meets some new friends.

“Dean.” Sam breathed quietly before his face hardened into a frown and he looked over his shoulder and into the darkened apartment behind him.

Cas stood in stoic silence, studying this younger version of his friend. Sam’s hair was short, far shorter than he had ever seen it in his time with the Winchesters. He wore a plain grey shirt, with cartoonish words that Castiel didn’t bother to read. He found it amusing, however, how simple this Sam was. It was almost ironic to see him as such a different person. 

Dean coughed not-so-subtly, redirecting his brother’s attention before speaking, “Can we come in or what? I need a beer.”

Sam scoffed, hissing at his brother, “Dean, you can’t just show up in the middle of the night. Is this about Dad? Because I’m not coming back to his stupid crusade, ok? I’m done hunting, for good and-” He stopped, finally processing the “we” in Dean’s sentence and staring at Cas, “Who are you?”

“I don’t believe we’ve met yet.” He stuck a hand out as politely as possible, “I’m, uh, Castiel. Castiel Novak. A friend of Dean’s.”

Sam carefully looked him up and down before shaking his hand firmly, “Right… Nice to meet you, I guess.”

At the same time as Sam finished greeting Cas, Dean blinked, “Dude. Who said anything about Dad? Now... you gonna get me that beer or what?”

“Sam? Who’s at the door?”

Dean lifted his head slightly, hearing Jess’ voice, and lifted an eyebrow at Sam in curiosity. Sam sighed as Jess pushed her way next to him, examining the two strangers standing on her doorstep, “Jess, this is my brother Dean and his friend Castiel. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.”

At this, Jess’ eyes brightened excitedly and Dean smiled, extending his arm for a handshake, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jessica.”

She grinned, “Likewise. Sam’s told me a lot about you.”

Dean laughed quietly as she shook his hand, “All good things, I hope.”

She turned to shake Cas’ hand next, “Castiel… that’s a unique name.”

Cas gave her a small, well mannered smile, “My father is a unique man.”

Dean snorted, clearing his throat and grinning, “That’s the understatement of the century.”

Cas gave him a dry stare before turning back to Jess and Sam, “You’ll have to forgive him, he feels the need to quote inside jokes at the most inappropriate of times.”

Sam just stared, giving a curt nod. It had been four years since he looked Dean in the eyes at that bus stop where he traveled to Stanford and two years since he and Dean had last spoken over the phone. And now here he was, standing just outside Sam’s door almost a completely different person. He hadn’t tried to flirt with Jess, or even make a slightly inappropriate comment. He showed up with some stranger- a  _ friend. _ Dean didn’t have friends. He had flings and hookups and girlfriends and acquaintances, but never friends. Especially not friends who he had inside jokes with. He had family and that was it. Jealousy twinged slightly in the pit of Sam’s stomach. Obviously Castiel knew Dean almost as well as (maybe even better than) Sam did. Which made sense, he supposed. Sam had stepped out of Dean’s life years ago and it had continued on without him.

Jess smiled softly, reclaiming Sam’s attention, “I’m thrilled to finally meet you, but I have to ask what you two are doing here so late.”

Dean chuckled, running his hand through his hair sheepishly, “Right… Sorry about that. We just got into town and, well, I’m sure Sammy’s not exactly open about his family to his friends so I figured this would save him the unwanted attention rather than pulling up in Baby in the middle of the day.”

Sam frowned in confusion, “What are you even doing here, man?”

Dean smiled, “What I can’t come check on my little brother? What has the world come to?”

Sam nodded hesitantly, “Uh huh… Listen it's pretty late and we stayed late at a party earlier. How about we all meet up somewhere for breakfast? Unless you guys haven’t found a place to stay for however long you’re visiting, that is.”

Dean shook his head, “No, no. We’re stayin’ in Baby tonight. Would go to a motel but I don’t want Dad knowing I’m here.”

Sam’s gawked. Dean wasn’t telling Dad where he was. Even more, he was actively hiding his location. Had they fought? Did Dad and Dean finally have a falling out?

Before he could begin to question his brother, Jess’ eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Are you sure? We’ve got plenty of room here and it’s really no problem.”

Dean raised a hand, shaking his head again, “We’re good. Baby’s plenty comfy for the both of us, right Cas?”

Sam stayed silent, mind whirring and picking through what information he had gathered in the past five minutes. This friend, Castiel Novak, knew Dean as well as Sam did. He was dressed professionally and (if anyone had asked) Sam would say he looked like the complete opposite of Dean. His hair was wild and dark, and his eyes were a piercing shade of blue. His tie was loose and worn backwards, as if he’d just clocked out at work and hopped into the Impala and drove from who knows where with Dean. Dean was close with him, obviously, had called him  _ Cas _ . He’d joked with him like it was the most normal thing in the world and clearly trusted him enough to bring on a trip to see family. And, if he was this close with Dean, he knew about the life, about hunters and things that went bump in the night. He was confusing, Sam thought. An enigma.

Castiel nodded, giving a small close-mouthed smile, “We’ll be fine, but thank you for the offer.”

Dean nudged Castiel with his elbow before motioning his head towards the stairs, “So… breakfast tomorrow, then. Text me the address and time, Sammy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright.” Sam responded breathlessly as he watched the two men walk down the stairs in complete silence. 

Tomorrow was gonna be a weird day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 thank you all so much for your comments and kind words!! :)


	7. Chapter Seven: Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas goes shopping and Sam gets breakfast.

Cas sighed, looking over Baby’s front seats to glare at Dean, who laid snoring in the backseat. After their “adventure” to Sam and Jess’ apartment, Dean had driven them to the least crowded parking lot he could find in the general vicinity of the address Sam had sent him and then dropped into the backseat and told Cas to wake him an hour before the set time of their meeting. While Dean slept, Cas had taken to going inside the store at which they were parked (a large, twenty four hour operating Walmart) and shopping- after carefully snagging Dean’s wallet from his jacket pocket, of course. 

He’d slowly made his way through the store, picking himself out new clothes because Dean had told him that, “No one wears  _ just _ one outfit, Cas. You need variety.” and Dean certainly had more experience being human than he did, so he listened. He’d chosen only clothes that were similar to ones he’d seen Dean and Sam wear or outfits nearly identical to the ones he’d had during his time as Emmanuel. Next, he’d grabbed a duffel similar to Dean’s as well, though his was a deep, navy blue rather than Dean’s faded and worn forest green bag. After paying, he’d made his way out of the store and back into the parking lot, folding his new clothes neatly and placing them in his bag before “mojoing” his suit, shoes and coat into the bag in place of blue jeans, a navy tee and black jacket and bright, sky blue socks (which were decorated with bright black and yellow bees) and black and white sneakers over them. 

Now he sat in the front seat, checking that the time was adequate enough to wake Dean before twisting around and using one arm to nudge him.

“Dean.”

“G’ aw’y.”

“ _ Dean. _ ” He repeated, heavier now.

Dean sighed, sitting up, “Wh’t?”

“We’re going to get breakfast with Sam and Jessica and if you don’t get up now, we’ll be late.” Cas replied pointedly.

“Y’u dr’ve.” Dean groaned, thrusting the keys in Cas’ face with no warning, “Lemme w’ke up s’mre.”

Cas’ eyes widened, taking the keys slowly, “Are you sure?”

“Ye’h… Now hurry up before I ch’nge my mind.”

…

“Hey… did you change your clothes?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam’s hands fidgeted under the table as he and Jess sat patiently in the booth.

They’d just gotten there, sure, but they had already been five minutes late and Dean and Castiel were nowhere to be seen. Had they taken off in the middle of the night? Or had they decided to just not show up? They’d been sitting in silence for ten minutes when Jess shot him a soft, kind hearted smile and placed a gentle hand on his knee, 

“Relax. This is gonna go fine.” 

As if on cue, the restaurant door opened with a small jingle and Castiel and Dean walked in. 

Or rather, Castiel had walked in and Dean had scuffled in lazily behind him.

Castiel gave a small, apologetic smile and scooted into the booth first, Dean following close behind, “My apologies for being so late, Dean overslept.”

“Don’t blame me.” Dean gaped, looking almost offended.

Castiel simply hummed, picking up the menu that sat in front of him, “Am I wrong?”

Dean looked away, muttering something along the lines of “smug son of a bitch” before picking up his own menu.

Sam chuckled, looking between the two of them. It was funny, the way they interacted. He’d never seen someone besides himself, Dad or Bobby put Dean in his place like that before. None of Dean’s girlfriends had been able to do so either. If Sam didn’t know better, he’d say they acted like an old married couple.

The waitress came over soon enough, her hair tucked in a neat bun behind her head and her stance calm and polite, “What can I get for ya, hun?”

Dean’s gaze stayed fixed on the menu as he spoke, not once looking up, “I’ll take the special, eggs scrambled with extra bacon and a coffee, black.”

She nodded, writing his order down before speaking to Castiel, “And for you?”

He set his menu down before speaking, “Nothing for me, thank you.” Nothing at all? Sam found that odd. Dean’s friend didn’t even want something to drink? It wasn’t too late in the morning, being just past nine thirty, but it’d be late enough to be hungry had Castiel eaten some time last night. Dean didn’t keep any food or drinks (beside beer) unless he’d made a real stop, which Sam doubted. There was no way he’d eaten this morning because, as Castiel had said, Dean woke up late and both men knew they’d be going to the restaurant.

He shook it off, watching Jess order herself waffles before the waitress finally took his order of shortstacks and took their menus.

Jess smiled warmly at the two visitors before speaking, “So how long are you two staying, then?”

Dean shrugged, looking at Castiel before replying to Jess, “Dunno. We’ll probably hit the road some time tonight. Got this job offer down in Jericho to check out.”

Jess perked up at that, “A job? What kind of work do you do?”

Dean yawned slightly, still very obviously tired, “Freelancing private detective work and security, mostly, but I also do the occasional car repair. Cas helps, too. He used to be military.”

Sam’s body went stiff, listening to Dean spill his carefully woven story. Sam knew Dean was a good liar because  _ he _ was a good liar and Dean taught him everything he knew. Sam could read Dean like a picture book full of three letter words. The narrative he spewed now wasn't entirely lies. Technically, Dean  _ did  _ do detective work and security and, although it was more of the supernatural kind of investigation and security, it was the truth. And he did like to tinker with Baby in his free time. Part of this story was true, that much he was sure of.

He gave Castiel a rigid smile, “Really? What branch?”

Cas blinked, almost as if he hadn’t expected anyone to ask, “Army… I, uh, left a few years ago after I received some orders I wasn’t comfortable with.” He glanced down at his lap and Sam nodded. This was part of the truth as well. Whatever Dean had done in the past to cross paths with this guy was obviously something he hadn’t even mentioned to Sam.

“What’s the case?” Sam asked, directing his question at Dean.

Dean smiled up at the waitress, who set his cup of coffee down carefully on the table, before replying, “Disappearances all on the same stretch of road. Seems like it shouldn’t be too difficult. Afterwards, me and Cas’ll probably high-tail it back home until the next one.”

Sam flinched, eyes narrowing to stare at Dean (who was currently inhaling his steaming hot coffee with lightning speed), “Home?”

Dean looked confused just for a second, as if he were going to say “obviously” and continue working his way through his cup of coffee, before regaining composure and smiling

“Uh... yeah.” He answered, “We’ve got this nice, big place up in Lebanon, Kansas. Right, Cas?”

Castiel just glowered, “You only think it’s nice because you’re not the one cleaning it.”

Dean just flashed him a cheeky grin before turning back to nurse his coffee.

Sam smiled,  _ genuinely _ smiled, Dean would never slip up and call something other than Baby  _ home _ . So this, he decided, was also a truth, “That’s great, Dean. I never thought you’d stop being so… nomadic. When’d you move in?”

Dean laughed, “I dunno. About a year ago? It’s hard to keep track. Great place. Maybe someday you two crazy kids can visit, huh?”

The waitress, who carried with her three large plates, walked steadily out of the kitchen and began to set down the plates before chirping a quick “enjoy your food” and turning on her heels to return to the kitchen.

“That’d be really cool.” Jess exclaimed excitedly, “Maybe during summer break, if you’re not too busy.”

Dean nodded almost absentmindedly, shoveling eggs and potatoes into his mouth and chewing a bit before speaking, “So what about you guys? What are you doin’ with your lives?”

“Well..” Jess started slowly, “I’m thinking of starting nursing on campus and Sam,” she said, pointing at him with her fork, “has an interview here Monday.”

“Interview?” Dean quizzed, mouth full, “Job interview?”

“Law school interview.” Sam corrected, “If everything goes well, I think I have a shot at getting a full ride.”

Sam held his breath, waiting nervously for Dean to scoff or mock him or tell him law school was stupid. Waited for him to tell him he was an idiot for thinking he could escape the life. Escape his  _ family _ . 

Instead, Dean broke into a wide smile and left Sam stunned, “Hey, man, congrats! That’s really impressive, wow!”

Castiel nodded, “Congratulations, Sam. From what I hear you certainly deserve it.”

“Thanks.” He replied, flustered, “How did you two meet, anyways?”

Dean chuckled, “He saved my ass on a case, can you believe that?”

Cas smiled, nodding, “Yes, in… where was it? New Harmony, Indiana.”

Dean groaned, his hand moving to feel his chest, “This crazy killer  _ demonic _ bitch set her dog on me when I tried to make a  _ citizen’s arrest _ . Fell right into her damp pit of a basement and the damn thing tried to maul me. Swear that thing was like a  _ hell hound _ .”

“It didn’t  _ try _ to maul you” Castiel corrected as he snatched some of Dean’s bacon off his plate, “It  _ did _ maul you and I had to lift you right out of that ‘pit’ while you bled all over my clothes.”

Sam nodded along to the story, slowly picking what he could from Dean’s story. Okay, a demon with a hellhound and a citizen’s arrest was obviously an exorcism, that part made enough sense and- hold on. Did Dean just let someone take food off his plate without saying anything? Sam’s confusion was amplified as Castiel leaned towards Dean’s plate again and took another small piece of bacon. Dean Winchester  _ never _ shared the food on his plate. Sam had learned that the hard way as a child, trying to steal a bite of whatever Dean was having while they sat in the back of the Impala had often granted him a light smack to the back of the hand and a sharp look from Dean before he begrudgingly handed Sam his plate and told him to, “Ask politely next time. Don’t reach onto my plate.”

Dean shrugged, “It’s all the same to me, that feels like forever ago.”

Cas hummed in agreement as he chewed, “Yes, you’ve certainly had worse.”

Jess patted the table, scooting out of her and Sam’s side of the booth, “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to head to the bathroom real quick.”

Sam nodded, watching her walk around the corner towards the restrooms before turning to Dean, “Alright, cut the crap, man. What are you doing here? How much of your cover story was real?”

“Right down to the good stuff, huh?” he grimaced, taking a final bite of his food before pushing the plate to Castiel, who grabbed the bacon with a rather bored expression.

Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes, “Right.. Let’s see. We  _ do _ have a case in Jericho and Cas is ex-army. Well, not the U.S army, but he used to be a soldier. We have a place in Lebanon. Cas did save my ass from demons, just not on a case.”

Cas frowned, “Technically it was a case.”

“Was not.”

“It was.”

“Wasn’t-”

“Guys.” Sam snapped with a huff, “Alright, seriously, what are you doing here?”

Dean’s gaze darkened, turning to Castiel, who tilted his head forward and raised his brows as if to ask a question, Dean sighed in response and turned back to Sam, “Listen… There’s a demon on your campus. We’re here to handle it and then head to Jericho to work those disappearances.”

“A demon?” Sam scoffed, “Dean, no offence, but what would a demon be doing here? If there was a demon here- and that’s a  _ huge _ if- I’d know, okay? If this is some bullshit excuse to get me to talk to Dad-”

Dean slid out of the booth, dropping enough bills to handle the tip on the table, “Sammy… when Brady comes to your door, don’t open it. Call me and leave the door locked.” 

Patting his pockets, Dean turned to Cas, who had stood from the booth with a piece of bacon still in hand, “You have the keys or do I?”

Cas produced Baby’s keys from the pocket of his jacket, handing them silently to Dean and following him out the door and into the parking lot.

  
Which left Sam to sit with his mouth wide at the fact that  _ Dean _ let someone else hold his keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding in domestic deancas to drag out the slow burn and dramatics >;o) mwahaha. As always, I want to thank you all for your continued commenting!! I may have to slow down my posting when school starts back up, but for now: i will continue my regularly scheduled posting


	8. Chapter Eight: Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets a visitor and Castiel makes a reveal.

Sam sighed, holding his head in his hands and staring daggers into the rug that sat under the coffee table next to the couch. Following his conversation with Dean, Sam had tried his very best to enjoy his weekend- or what was left of it, seeing as getting breakfast with Dean and Castiel had taken up the majority of his Saturday morning and his thoughts the majority of his Saturday afternoon. He’d finished up Saturday with taking Jess first to a movie (Something with Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler, he thinks. He isn’t that into rom-coms.) and then to dinner at some new place past the other side of campus. His Sunday consisted of mostly studying for his interview and rereading and reviewing what he wanted to say while Jess watched cable tv and brought him snacks and tea. Now, here he was sitting on his couch thinking about Dean again. 

Dean was… different. That much he was sure of. He seemed more tired, older. He was hiding things from Dad, so something was definitely wrong with him. Sam could only assume they’d had a fight or something, maybe about Dean’s friend. Dad had never liked working with other hunters, and it was obvious that Castiel knew Dean well, maybe even more so than Dad. Castiel was a weird little dude. Quiet, but not timid. More… observant, waiting, watching. Watching for what, however, Sam did not know. Maybe he was-

_ Knock, Knock, Knock. _

Sam froze, head shooting up to stare at the door.

_ “Call me and leave the door locked.” _

Jess, who’d heard the knocking, frowned and walked out into the living room “You expecting anyone? Your brother?”

Sam shook his head, digging through his pockets and handing Jess his phone, “Uh, no. No. Look, uh, can you call Dean? Just tell him someone’s at the door. Go to the bedroom and lock the door.”

Worry crossed Jess’ face as she slowly took the phone from his hands, “Sam, wh-”

“Just do it, please. I’m going to answer the door. Just…. Please.” he said, standing.

Jess nodded hesitantly, flipping open the phone and making her way down the hall towards their bedroom. Sam smiled slightly, hearing a soft, “Hello? Is this Dean?” before he turned back to the front door. He took a deep breath, walking towards the door and gripping the handle before peering out the peephole. Brady. He scoffed, shaking his head. Coincidences, all coincidences. 

_ “When Brady comes to your door, don’t open it.” _

Well, since when had he listened to Dean?

He turned the lock carefully and opened the door. Brady stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans and a simple white hoodie worn loosely around his shoulders. He just looked like, well,  _ Brady. _ Sam tentatively opened the door, “What’re you doing here, man? It’s almost eight.” 

Brady’s eyes went wide, taking a half step backwards, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Sam scowled, “What the Hell are you talking about?”

And then everything is moving too fast. Brady’s eyes went black, and the only word Sam could breath out was, “Demon.”

“Whatever.” the demon- Brady- snarled, raising a hand and pinning Sam to the wall, “We can do this with you here, I guess.”

Sam groaned, trying his best to fight against the force that had him held against the wall. His arms and legs felt glued in place, and his chest felt heavy. Almost as if he was being pressed by a heavy wood cabinet or maybe stuck at the end of a wind tunnel. It didn’t hurt, but still the pressure was unbearable. As best he could, he turned his head in the direction of the bedroom, craning his neck, “Jess!”

Brady- though Sam figured this wasn’t Brady and hadn’t been for quite some time- raised a finger and wiggled it with a small tsk, black eyes peering back into his own, “Now, Sammy. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it's rude to interrupt a working man?”

“Screw you.” Sam spat back, “Jess, keep the door locked!”

Brady just sighed, and Sam felt the pressure on his body increase, “You’re making this real difficult, Sam.”

Sam just scoffed, watching the demon coldly, “Go to Hell, you bastard.”

Brady laughed, “That’s a good one, a real good one. I-”

The door slammed open, Dean and Castiel standing in the entryway. Castiel was wearing the same suit and trench coat that Sam had originally met him in, and Dean was wearing his usual: a shit-ton of layers, bootcut jeans, torn up leather boots and Dad’s old leather jacket. In Dean’s hand was a long, silver blade, definitely not something he’d ever seen in his brother’s arsenal. Castiel stepped forward as Dean moved aside to let him in.

The demon froze, releasing Sam, and began to walk backwards, tripping over his legs and crawling backwards, “You. Y-You aren’t supposed to be here. You can’t- You aren’t-”

Castiel just looked bored, walking forwards until Brady had backed himself up along a wall and raised a hand, pressing it up against his forehead, “I suggest you stay very still. This will not be a pleasant experience.” 

And then Brady started to scream.  _ Really _ scream. His skin was sizzling and burning underneath where Castiel’s hand was placed. His eyes were screwed closed so hard Sam figured they’d just stay that way. The smell of burning flesh was starting to fill the living room of the apartment, and if Sam hadn’t smelled it before he knew he would’ve gagged. 

The screaming seemed to draw Jess’ attention, because then she was clamoring down the hall, “Sam? Are-  _ Oh my God _ .”

And Sam… Sam just stared, because Castiel was burning a man-demon-whatever-’s forehead with just the touch of his palm. That wasn’t something humans could do. Not monsters or even demons, as far as he was aware. All he was certain of was the fact that Castiel was not human. Suddenly, Sam became aware that Dean was just watching, arms crossed and observant. He just looked on without saying a word, as if he was aware that his friend was not human and that it didn’t bother him.

Castiel nodded to Dean, moving his hand back to reveal some sort of pentagram burnt directly into Brady’s forehead. It had symbols Sam didn’t recognize, but that really wasn’t what Sam was focused on.

“You’re not human.” he breathed softly, gaining everyone in the room’s attention.

Brady’s lips were pressed into a thin line, almost a grimace, “Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re just a pretty face, Sam. Of course he isn’t human. He’s an  _ angel _ .”

“ _ Angel?” _ Jess whispered.

“Oh? You didn’t know?” Brady asked, eyebrows raised to his hairline in mock surprise, “Well, that’s a damn shame.”

“Be quiet.” Dean sighed exasperatedly before turning back to Castiel, “Can you smite him? Without hurting the meatsuit, I mean.”

“Maybe.” he replied thoughtfully, “Though I suppose the use of an angel blade would be a safer choice.”

“Still here.” Brady chimed in.

“We know.” Dean and Castiel deadpanned at the same time. If Sam wasn’t freaking out internally, he might’ve laughed.

“I-I’m sorry what the Hell is going on?” Jess asked frantically, “What did you do to Brady?”

Sam moved forward slightly, raising an arm to wave Jess behind him and shield her, “Jess, just- Just stay behind me alright?”

Dean grinned, placing a hand on Cas’ shoulder, “Show ‘em your magic trick, buddy.”

Cas just glared coldly at Dean before turning towards Sam and Jess. The shadows of huge wings unfurled out of his back, the lightbulbs surrounding beginning to glow bright and emit soft hums.  _ Holy shit _ . Castiel was a real, honest to God (was that an offensive expression?) angel. The shadow spread far larger than the roof of the tiny apartment, and it was obvious they were not at their full wingspan. Still, it was remarkable. Sam remembered at many points in his childhood when he would pray to a God he had no idea whether or not even existed or would often circle back to thinking about Heaven and Hell and immortality. Now, to have proof and see that those things actually existed, was stunning. Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped and Dean was approaching Sam and Jess.

“I think you two might want to sit down for this part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	9. Chapter Nine: Post-Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gives an explanation.

Sam sat down silently on the couch, Jess trailing after him before sitting as close as she could to his side without falling into his lap. It was odd, in a way. The way his brother had waltzed into their home, saved them from a demon, and then told them to sit down like he owned the place. Sam didn’t mind, though. His mind was absolutely reeling, and he really wasn’t looking to do any heavy critical thinking at the moment, content with just listening to Dean and sitting his ass down.

Dean was in the dining room now, grabbing a chair and dragging it across the floor before facing it across from where Sam and Jess sat. Castiel stood perfectly still in the background, doing what Sam could only assume he had been doing earlier: observing. His posture was perfect, and his arms sat stiffly at his sides. Dean sat slightly hunched over, hands covering one another in front of his chin, as if he were thinking. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it again and frowning.

Trying again, he finally spoke, “Alright, so… Hi! Uh, My name is Dean Winchester and I hunt monsters.”

Jess’ face remained unreadable as she blinked slowly, “What?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume Sam doesn’t talk about his family, right?” Jess nodded, “Right. Our mother was killed on November second, 1983 by something… not human. Our dad, John, started hunting out of revenge and taught us how to hunt monsters. That’s how we grew up, and how Sammy got all those funny little scars. We moved around a lot because of hunts and our childhood wasn’t the best, to say the least. I hunt all kinds of things that go bump in the night. Ghosts, werewolves, zombies, vampires-”

“Vampires?” Sam asked with a scowl.

Dean’s eyes widened before he sighed, “Right, you don’t know. The little blood suckers are making a comeback.”

Wow. Sam felt a bit bitter, to say the least. He knew he shouldn’t have, because he’d chosen to leave for Stanford and he did love it, but he couldn’t help but feel a tad indignant hearing Dean talk. When Sam left, the world didn’t stop spinning for Dad and Dean. It kept moving and they kept doing their own thing. Obviously things were different, because now he was sitting here listening to Dean talk about  _ vampires _ with mild annoyance. Beside him, Jess began to pale ever so slightly and he couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. Maybe he should’ve told her, or at the very least given her half truths rather than just shutting the majority of his childhood in and throwing away the key.

“So… monsters?” Jess asked slowly.

Dean nodded slightly, observing her reaction.

Jess swallowed, nodding slowly and straightened up, “Alright.”

Sam frowned, “‘Alright’?”

Jess just nodded again, “It’d be a bit hard to just  _ not  _ believe with everything in front of me. It’s gonna take some… adjusting, to say the least, but there’s now use bitching and denying what I can see with my own two eyes.”

Damn, Sam loved her.

Dean chuckled before turning back to the demon and his mood soured once more, “Your friend, Brady, is possessed by a demon. Cas is gonna try his best to kill it without hurting the real Brady, and then heal him, make him forget his possession ever happened, and send him on his merry way.”

“Wait.” Sam started quickly, “Castiel is-is an angel?”

Dean glanced back at Castiel, whose face was still stone, and answered, “Yeah, he is. I’m not gonna get into details or whatever- safer that way- but yeah.”

"No details?" Sam scoffed, "Dean, this just answered like half of my philosophical questions!"

"Sam." Dean replied sternly, "It's safer for you not to know, okay?"

Before Sam could ask another question, Castiel stepped towards Brady (who spat out a quick, “Feathered freak.”) and rested his hand on his forehead again. This time however, the screams were accompanied by high-pitched ringing and Sam couldn’t help but wince. Brady’s face, or rather his eyes and mouth, began to glow and then shine brighter, so bright in fact, that Sam squinted and turned his face. The light was warm, comforting almost. Not hot like fire or days when the sun got too hot and the California heat beat down on him, no. This heat was softer. Almost like turning up a fan and crawling under warm covers or an electric blanket. It was almost familiar, comforting. Then it was fading, and Brady slumped backwards with his eyes closed and his mouth ajar. Castiel swept a hand over his head and the skin of Brady’s forehead was unblemished and even. Slow but firm, Castiel moved his hand down to Brady’s chest, the light emitting from his palm.

“How bad?” Dean asked casually and -Jesus,  _ casually. _ As if this was a normal day-to-day thing for him, like he’d done this a million times and would do it a million more.

“Not terrible.” Castiel replied with his usual dry tone and moved his pointer and middle finger to Brady’s forehead, “The past two years have been made entirely of fabricated memories, and when he wakes he will be under the impression that he was staying here for the night after becoming inebriated at a bar.”

Dean smiled, standing and clapping his hands, “Awesome. Look, I’m gonna write down some wards and exorcisms and give you guys some stuff, and then we’re gonna hit the road.”

He walked towards the door and Sam turned to Jess, giving a sympathetic smile and mouthing a quick,  _ “Be right back.” _ She nodded, and he stood and walked out the door after his brother. 

“Dean!” he called quietly, stepping quickie down the stairs to follow after him.

Dean stopped, frowning, “Something wrong?”

“No, no. I just, uh… I wanted to apologize.” he said sheepishly, “I was kind of being a dick, and then I didn’t listen about the demon and I just- I’m sorry.”

Dean just shrugged, still grinning, “I get it, man. It’s fine, really. If I were you I'd probably do the same. Now help me grab this shit out of Baby’s trunk.”

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes and following Dean to the car.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What are these exactly?” Jess asked as Sam continued to examine all of the symbols on the papers.

“ _ These _ ” Dean said, laying a hand on the writing, “Are warding sigils, banishing sigils, devils traps, etcetera. They’re labeled, so you can put them up later and know what they do and what to make them out of.” Moving on to place a hand on a different piece of paper, Dean started again, “ _ This _ is an exorcism. The easiest one I know, so both of you should be able to to memorize and recite it. Latin, light pronunciations. Easy.” 

“And finally... “ Dean said, moving to the final sheet of paper, “ _ This _ is a list of every demon and angel weakness I know.”

Sam nodded, looking the papers up and down before nodding towards the ammo box sitting next to them, “What about those?”

Dean grinned, “Devil’s trap bullets for your .45. Stops ‘em right where they stand and gives you time to perform an exorcism.”

Dean glanced down at his watch, scowling, “Shit, it’s late… We better get going.”

“You’re leaving?” Sam asked carefully. He hadn’t talked to Dean in nearly three years, and then he shows up, saves the day and leaves again?

Dean looked at Castiel, who didn’t say a word and yet seemed to say a hundred, “Yeah… we still have that case in Jericho to handle.”

“Stay.” Sam argued, “You don’t have to leave just yet. Call Bobby, have someone else handle it.”

Dean shook his head, glancing at his feet and looking back up again, “No, we’re gonna go… I just needed you to be safe, Sammy. You don’t exactly get ‘safe’ around me. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Dean-”

“Call and text, okay? Stay in touch.” He looked at Jess and smiled, “Keep him out of trouble for the rest of the school year and you two can come stay with us for the summer in Lebanon. Maybe we can go on a hunt. Something simple.”

Jess laughed, “Sounds good to me. It was wonderful to meet you. Both of you.” 

A ghost of a smile graced Castiel’s lips and Dean patted his shoulder, “Let’s hit the road, Cas. Jericho awaits!”

Cas nodded, walking out the door as Dean followed after. He turned, giving a small smile, one that Sam knew was vulnerable and genuine, and a two finger salute, “See ya, Sammy.”

And just as soon as he’d come, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I hope you noticed that this chapter is labeled post-pilot as it takes place in the early hours of Monday- after Jess is killed in the pilot.) I was NOT going to post this until my next posting day, but HOLY CRAP the amount of comments that flooded my inbox as soon as I posted was INSANE!! I just wanted to thank you all again and let you know how much comments mean to me <3 I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I do want to let you know that while this story is Dean-centric, I've outlined the story to have a lot of interaction with Sam and Jess :) Once again, tysm for all the comments!! They made my day after sending like 5 hours doing house work and diy lol


	10. Chapter Ten: Post-Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas get down to business.

Baby roared down the highway, the sound of Led Zeppelin's Ramble On muted by the wind that blew past her open windows. Dean was smiling, fingers tapping subtly against the wheel. Cas sat next to him, reading _something._ Craning his neck, Dean scowled, “Is that… _The Sun_? Are you reading tabloids?”

Cas’ eyes stayed glued to the page, “I find it practical to learn about the year in which we currently reside. This is research, Dean.”

Dean snatched the magazine from his hands,glancing down at it and then back at the road, “ _This_ is not research, Cas. ‘Final proof world is coming to an end’? ‘Seven bible warnings you must heed now’? Seriously?”

“It’s interesting.” Cas grumbled, taking the magazine back and reopening it , “Not accurate whatsoever, but interesting. I enjoy hearing of the divine from a human point of view.”

“What’s interesting is the case.” Dean replied pointedly, “I’m gonna handle our woman in white out on Centennial Highway and _you_ are gonna grab Dad’s journal from the idiots down at Jericho p.d.”

“And after that?”

“After that, we’re gonna head home so I can get a good night's sleep. Then we’ll finish our kick-ass plan.”

Cas nodded as Dean pulled into a gas station, turning the wheel sharply to align Baby with the pump, “I’m loading up on gas and snacks… I guess you can stay here and uh, read your tabloids.”

Cas nodded absentmindedly, staring down at his magazine as Dean pulled out his phone, “Huh.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, no. Nothing.” He said, staring quizzically at the screen, “It’s just… Sam texted. Guess he was serious about staying in touch or whatever.”

“Anything of importance?” Cas asked, carefully closing the magazine and setting it on the dashboard.

“Not really.” Dean shrugged, handing him the phone, “Here, you can read it. I’m gonna fill up the tank.”

Cas took it carefully, watching Dean step out of the driver's seat and round the car before starting to read the message:

_Wanted to thank you (again) and am definitely going to try and stay in touch. I gave Jess your phone number, so don’t be surprised if you’re added to a group chat. She wanted to know if Castiel has a phone too so she can add him. Do angels use phones? If he does let me know. Jess is adjusting really well and I spent the night telling her stories about hunts. She said she didn’t really like that I didn’t tell her, but she understands and is glad she knows now. She’s really great. How’s Jericho? Any idea what you’re hunting? Text me back, Jerk._

Cas smiled as he read the message and decided to type out a reply:

**Hello, Sam. I am using Dean’s phone while he refills the vehicle’s gas tank. I do have a phone, as Dean suggested I get one. I will have Dean give you the number when he sends a reply. Please feel free to text me in the unlikely event that Dean cannot be reached. Do excuse my use of emoticons, Dean tells me that they can be distracting when attempting to read my messages. - Castiel <[:-)**

Cas enjoyed the use of emoticons and emojis and would often try his best to include them in his texts, much to Dean’s dismay. Dean had once told him he used too many and his texts were becoming indecipherable, but he didn’t really care. He had just sent him a cat emoji in response and continued using his emojis and emoticons. He also enjoyed using text ‘slang’, telling Dean all about what the abbreviations meant and how effective he found them. Dean had just told him to keep the abbreviations to a minimum of two per text and went back to nursing his cup of coffee. Sam had never minded much, and on a few occasions when the texts were not hunt or apocalypse related, replied with his own emojis. Not as many as Cas, of course, but a smiley face or a thumbs up here and there.

Dean huffed good naturedly, opening the door and sitting back down in the impala, “Dude… Gas prices right now? I’ll never see California gas this low again. $1.89, Cas. _$1.89_.”

Cas handed the phone back, “I told Sam I do, in fact, have a phone. I told him you’d send him my number.”

“Sounds good.” Dean smiled, throwing the car into drive and turning up the radio, “Jericho here we come!”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hunt had gone easy enough, though Dean was more than upset at the fact that Baby once again had plowed through Constance Welch’s old house to bring her spirit to rest. The hunt had gone pretty well, though Dean was pretty tired of creepy ghost bitches tearing holes in his shirts. The scratches that were embedded in Baby’s black paint had been pretty similar to the first encounter with the woman in white but it was fixable and wouldn’t be too much of a pain. Cas had successfully recollected John’s journal from it’s temporary home in the evidence locker in the Jericho Police Department. He’d come and gone and no one had noticed, so he’d recounted it as a success. They had met up after their respective missions in “Bert Aframian”’s motel room, where Dean had cleared out all of his father’s case work and sat down to reply to Sam:

**Sorry I’m texting so late, Bitch. Cas’ number is (866)-907-3235, feel free to have Jess add him to that group chat. Glad to hear she’s taking this so well. Now I can share all your embarrassing hunting stories. Jericho’s fine. Woman in white.**

_You still hunting her?_

**Nah, just finished. Just a milk run.**

_Oh, cool. Are you going back to Lebanon?_

**Yup. Then I’m gonna go to Colorado to work a wendigo and Cas is going to Wisconsin to do a vengeful spirit. How’d your interview go.**

_Really well, I think. Pretty certain I’ve got that full ride, but no promises._

**Hey, nice job. I’ll have to call you next time I get my ass caught on a case.**

_I won’t pick up, that’s for sure._

**If you say so.**

_Soooo…_

**What’s up?**

_Nothing, it’s just you and Cas seem pretty close…_

**Bye, Sammy.**

_:) :) :)_

Dean’s shut his phone, feeling his face go red and scowled because _somehow_ he could hear Sam’s stupid smug laugh ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas' magazine -> https://www.ebay.com/itm/Sun-April-2005-Tabloid-Magazine-End-of-The-World-Asteroids-Nuclear-Apocalypse-/323860157093
> 
> I'm so so so sorry I haven't updated :( I just started junior year so school is going to be very tough this year. I'm definitely going to start updating again, but it will probably only be once a week. Thank you all so much for your comments <3 I love reading them and they make my day!! I've had so much homework this week, so I'm so glad to be writing and posting


	11. Chapter 11: Post-Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean visits an old friend.

Dean sighed, fingers drumming along to the music on the radio as he drove down the highway towards Sioux Falls. He and Cas had split up, each going after a respective family member. While he had gone north to visit Bobby, Cas had opted to go east to find Anna and (hopefully) stop her from losing it and killing Sam. He didn’t trust her one bit, but she hadn’t exactly done anything to slight him yet and he tried his best to remind himself that people could change.

He’d debated on whether or not to drive west to find Kevin, but seeing as he hadn’t exactly started being a prophet yet, he elected to keep him out of the life for as long as possible. It was the reasonable thing to do.

He could’ve found a number of people, but Bobby was the obvious first choice. He hadn’t seen him since… well, since he’d finally gone to Heaven like he’d deserved. Dean didn’t count that interaction, not really. It was just Bobby’s  _ soul _ that he’d seen. They hadn’t exactly sat down for lunch with him or anything.

That was then and this was now, though. Bobby didn’t have to die. He could live out his life the way he was meant to and without interaction from the leviathan. Dean would make sure that Bobby was safe. He’d update the wards and drop a few subtle hints here and there about books that were useful and go on his way. 

He’d missed Bobby a lot. It stung when he died, maybe even more so than when John did. He felt like an idiot, looking back. Bobby wouldn’t have wanted Dean to take his death as badly as he did. He got drunk and angry and lashed out when he had no right to. He’d stuck Sam in an awful position and hadn’t even thought of how  _ he’d _ felt. How Bobby’s death had affected his brother and not just him. He’d screwed up and acted like an entitled ass for months.

But at this point in time none of that had happened yet, and he was determined to make sure it didn’t happen at all.

He was gonna fix things.

\------------------------------

Dean rolled his eyes, stepping out of Baby and shutting the door behind him. Bobby’s great big rottweiler, Rumsfeld, sat on top of Bobby’s sky blue ford, sleeping in the afternoon sun. The dog opened his eyes slowly, just staring up at Dean with red, droopy eyes before readjusting his head and continuing his nap.

“Some guard dog you are, buddy.” he scoffed, patting Rumsfeld’s head and walking up Bobby’s porch.

Rumsfeld had definitely gotten far worse than he deserved the first time around, and Dean had kind of felt for the dog before he’d been lost to the memories of failed hunts and stopped apocalypses. 

Stepping onto the front porch and pounding his first on the door, Dean took a step back, “Yo! Bobby, it’s Dean! Open up, old man!”

Bobby’s all too familiar scowl graced the doorway, eyebrows furled, “You wanna wake the whole town too, dumbass?”

Damn, it felt good to see his face.

Dean just grinned, rocking back on his heels and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, “I don’t see anyone pullin’ up with torches and pitchforks, Bobby. I think you’ll live.”

“Whatever, idjit.” Bobby grumbled, turning around and walking towards the kitchen, “You comin’ in or what?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, “I’m coming.”

Walking in and closing the door behind him, he looked around, taking note of Bobby’s house. There were books piled all the way up to the ceiling, papers scattered along the worn wood floors and sigils and symbols scratched into the door frames and staircase.

Dean studied the rooms carefully as he walked toward the dining room table. He hadn’t seen Bobby’s house since the leviathan had burned it to a shell of its former self. He missed it, the familiarity and the memories. Bobby’s was the only thing close to a permanent home in his childhood. Something he could always rely on.

“So how ya been?” Bobby called over his shoulder from the kitchen.

“Good.” Dean answered nonchalantly, taking the glass of whiskey from Bobby’s hand as he walked back to the table, “You?”

Bobby nodded slowly, taking a sip of his own glass, “Fine, fine. Good as a hunter can be, I guess... Ya know, Dean, I’ve been hearing a lot of things from hunters through the grapevine. They talk about you like you’re some kind of superhero… Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

“Oh.” Dean said with a small grin, running a hand through his hair sheepishly, “Right, right. I guess I’ve just had a lucky run this year, Bobby. What more can I say?”

“Word is your daddy’s been lookin’ for ya, boy.”

Dean grimaced, “Well, sucks to be him, I guess. You ain’t gonna tell him you saw me, are you?”

Bobby scoffed, “No, I ain’t gettin’ in the middle of whatever the Hell is goin’ on with you two. Since when are you avoiding your dad? You get in a fight?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “He’s working his own gigs, I’m working mine. Anything else you wanna interrogate me about?”

Bobby shrugged, arms crossing as he leaned back in his chair, “Maybe… Why don’t you start with that mystery man people say you’ve been hunting with and why you didn’t bring ‘im up here.”

Dean’s face turned red, “Oh. Yeah… Cas is-  _ Castiel _ is, uh… He’s an angel.”

Bobby frowned, “Dean, if yer with him I don’t mind.”

Dean’s eyes widened, brows shooting up to his forehead, “No! No, Bobby he’s not- Cas isn’t my freakin’ boyfriend. He’s an  _ angel _ . Wings, halo, harp?”

“Well, shit…” Bobby sighed, pinching his eyebrows, “Angels, that’s a new one for sure. Makes sense I s’pose. Helluva lot of lore on ‘em. We were bound to see ‘em eventually, I guess.

...

You know if you  _ were _ with him I wouldn’t care, right?”

Dean’s lips twitched upwards, and he brought the glass to them to take another sip, “Yeah, Bobby. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! This chapter was SO hard to write, ugh :( I wish I could just translate the entire thing from my head and onto paper, because it is so difficult to verbalize a story when it plays out like an actual episode of the show in your head.
> 
> I hope you all noticed that there's now a companion piece that goes with this story and will be more in the future! (By the future I mean I'm going to be posting one tomorrow oops ;))
> 
> As always, please leave thoughts, questions, comments and concerns down below!!
> 
> Love you all!!!!


	12. Chapter 12: Post-Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas visits a sibling.

Castiel sighed, glancing down at the paper in his hands. On it was the address of Anna Milton’s dorm, written in Dean’s messy, all caps handwriting. In 2005 Anna had been attending Ohio state university, majoring in journalism and living on campus. Cas studied the wooden door to Anna’s room. MILTON was written in a neat, blocky font on a sign on the door. It was so simplistic, so  _ human _ . Anna had great promise, living on Earth after her fall. She was… normal. Just living her own life and making her own choices.

Maybe deep down, Cas envied her.

Raising an apprehensive hand, he knocked on the door.

Anna’s head and shoulders peaked out from behind the door, her hair tied up in a neat ponytail behind her head, “Can I help you?”

She looked tired, but there was no indication that she was particularly upset about that. Her clothing style seemed to echo the clothes she had worn the first time Castiel had seen her. She was certainly younger, and happier too. If she recognized him, she made no move to let him know.

He smiled slightly, “Yes, I think you can. Anna Milton, correct?”

She nodded carefully, eyes moving to look down the hall in the direction of the building’s stairs, “That’s right.”

“I’m afraid you don’t remember me, but we have something akin to a… shared history. We’re siblings.” He said curtly and without hesitation. He’d debated at first, whether or not to tell her the truth and restore her memories. He eventually figured he would, and if she wanted afterwards he could simply reverse his work and leave her to live out her life on Earth. Either way, lying wouldn’t do him much good in this situation.

Anna smiled sympathetically, “I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’m an only child. I could help you find the school directory, if you want.”

His hummed an acknowledgment, studying her very carefully before his gaze hardened, looking into her eyes intently and raising his hand to touch her forehead with his forefinger and middle finger, 

“ _ Remember. _ ”

She inhaled sharply, taking a small step back into the room. Her eyes were wide, Cas could almost see the memories returning to her, carving themselves out in her mind and making themselves known. He retracted his fingers and let his hand drop to his side. Anna’s eyes shut tight, a hand moving to her temple before she exhaled, staring at Cas in simplistic awe.

“Castiel...”

“It’s good to see you, Anna.” he murmured gently.

“I’m guessing you want to talk then.” She said, studying him cautiously, “Seeing as you haven’t killed me or taken me to your superiors yet.”

He turned towards the hallway and began to walk, an invisible invitation to join him, “I wish you no harm, Anna. Though you are correct in assuming I’d like to talk to you.”

She nodded, following him quietly before moving to walk shoulder to shoulder. They walked in silence for a while, making their way down the stairs of the building and out into the open.

“You’ve changed.” Anna commented with a hint of pride in her voice.

“As have you.” he remarked, glancing down at her, “Do you enjoy your life here? With them?”

“More than anything.” she responded wistfully, “It’s incredible… being human. There is so much that the angels don’t understand, Castiel.”

“Mhmm.” he hummed, thinking for a moment, “Yes, I think you’re right. Angels have such… clouded vision. They don’t understand humanity in the slightest.”

“They know, don’t they?” She asked, voice laced with ever so subtle concern, “They know who I am.”

“No, they don’t. I won’t be telling them where you are, Anna. No one knows that I have seen you. They don’t even know that I have come to Earth, not yet at least.”

“You’ve fallen?” She asked with wide eyes.

“No.” he shook his head, “No, I’m still… me. I’m still an angel. I am residing here and hiding my absence from the Host. I suspect that facade won’t work for much longer, though.”

“Why?”

“Heaven is corrupt and in shambles.” He said bitterly, “God’s absence has made them into something twisted and unclean. They’re planning the apocalypse. Freeing Lucifer from the cage. They will decimate the Earth with their childish fighting. Gabriel is… gone. Michael and Raphael are only pushing for more violence, and human blood will be spilled should they continue.”

Anna nodded slowly, “And you plan to stop them?”

“I do.” he confirmed, “I just wanted to tell you that they  _ will _ learn where you are. Ward your room and your parents’ home. The angels will come eventually, and it’d be far better for you to be prepared.”

She chuckled quietly, her hair moving with her shoulders, “Ever the cautious one, brothermine.”

“Yes.” he smiled, “I suppose I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short :( I'll try and post another one in a couple days to make up for it, but I just wanted to make sure I posted on time. I'm sure you'll all notice that Anna seems a lot more serious in this chapter than she was in I Know What You Did Last Summer, and I think it makes sense that she would be more "angel-like" personality wise due to the fact that Cas found her BEFORE she started hearing Angel Radio and also because she was fourish years younger than her original appearance in the show, meaning she has less human experience.
> 
> Reminder that I did post a companion piece that goes with the previous chapter, so make sure you check that out!! I plan to have quiet a few companion pieces, and, while there won't be one for every chapter, when there are ones, they'll be posted anytime between when the chapter is posted and the next day (so every Wednesday or Thursday)!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments on my last post <3 they always make my day!!!


	13. Chapter 13: Wendigo - Bloody Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas take some time to be normal.

For the next few weeks, Dean and Cas traded off on different cases that Dean had encountered in his first bout around 2005 and 2006. Dean had created a list of cases he could remember from between when he had left Stanford with Sam to the beginning of 2006 and then sorted them out so they could each take different cases (and if Dean had given Cas the demonic plane passenger case on purpose, that was nobody's business but his). They’d worked nonstop to finish their respective cases and Cas had finished far quicker than Dean, much to his dismay. Cas had then lectured him on why their work was  _ not  _ a competition and Dean had tuned him out and started cooking breakfast.

Sam and Jess had been calling and texting frequently after adding Dean and Cas to their group chat and had been sure to tell about life at Stanford.

_ From Sam - November 10, 2005 4:34 PM _

_ What are you guys doing for thanksgiving? _

**Sent - November 13, 2005 11:02 PM**

**Sorry, I didn't have service for a couple of days. Wendigo in Colorado. Probably just going to work on a few simple cases. How come?**

_ From Sam - November 14, 2005 7:22 AM _

_ Just wondering if you’d want to swing by for a few days, Jess’ family is staying in a hotel and we’re going out for dinner.  _

**Sent - November 14, 2005 10:54 AM**

**Yikes. Don’t want to be stuck with the in-laws, Sammy? Harsh. We’ll be there.**

_ From Sam - November 14, 2005 12:10 PM _

_ Haha very funny. Sounds good. Does Cas sleep? Because we only have one couch bed. _

**Sent - November 14, 2005 12:15 PM**

**Nah. Angels don’t sleep. He likes to read magazines and stuff while I sleep.**

_ From Sam - November 14, 2005 12:25 PM _

_ You learn something new everyday I guess. I’ll text you more details soon, jerk. _

**Sent - November 14, 2005 12:50 PM**

**Sounds good, bitch.**

\------------------------------------------------------

Dean and Cas stood outside Sam and Jess’ apartment, Dean pausing to listen to Cas's commentary on different holidays.

“I’m not sure I understand the concept of thanksgiving’” Cas frowned.

Dean shrugged, hands shoved into his pockets, “It’s the day the Native Americans ate with the colonists or whatever.”

“That is incredibly historically inaccurate.” Cas said promptly as Dean knocked on the door, “Christopher Columbus and his men, contrary to popular belief, were actually, disease spreading colonizers and weren’t exactly ‘breaking bread’ with-” 

Jess answered the door, a dazzling smile on her face. She was wearing a hot pink tee and blue jeans and hadn’t put on shoes over her white socks yet. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail behind her head and on her wrist was a cord bracelet that Dean recognized as the one Sam wore… after.

“Dean! Castiel! I’m so glad you could make it.”

Dean smiled, “So are we. Are your parents here yet?”

She nodded, looking over her shoulder, “Yeah. Come in and meet them and I’ll tell Sam you’re here.”

She opened the door, turning to walk down the hallway, “Make yourselves at home!”

Dean chuckled, closing the door behind Cas.

“Oh, wonderful!” a voice from the dining room chided, “Jessica told us you were coming.”

Dean turned to face the voice, which belonged to a polite looking woman sitting at the table holding a glass of water. Across from her sat an equally kind-looking man with his own, less full glass.

The man -Jess’ father- waved them over, “Come sit! Introduce yourselves!”

Dean grinned, nudging Cas with his elbow and making his way towards the table to sit.

“I’m Jackie and this is Phil.” Jess’s mother introduced them with a smile. She wore a thin jacket over a plain t-shirt and jeans, her husband dressed in a casual button-up and cargo shorts. They looked average, put together. The kind of people that lived a normal life with their normal family. Suddenly he felt a bit self-conscious about his outfit. For him it was normal, but to the non-hunter eye, he looked like a biker gang reject.

“It’s a pleasure.” Dean said, shaking her hand, “I’m Dean. This is Castiel.”

Cas smiled slightly, following Dean’s lead, “Nice to meet you both.”

“You’re a family friend, right?” Phil asked, taking a sip from his glass and nudging his head toward Cas.

He nodded, “Yes, that’s right. I usually spend holidays with Dean and our, uh, friends in Kansas.”

If Dean weren’t in front of his brother’s in-laws he might’ve clapped Cas around the shoulder and tell him what a convincing liar he’d grown to be.

“Jess said you’re both private detectives?” Jackie asked, and thank Chuck Jess was a good liar too and was able to remember his cover story.

Dean nodded, “Yeah, yeah we are. We-”

“Hey, Dean.” Sam grinned, making his way down the hallway with Jess close behind, “How was the drive?”

Dean stood, slinging a shoulder over Sam’s shoulder to hug him, “ _ Cold _ . I’m just waiting for the day where I can make Cas shovel the driveway because of the snow.

Cas just rolled his eyes, “Very funny, Dean.”

Dean just snickered, pulling back and shrugging, “I know.”

Sam clapped, rubbing his hands together, “So… ready to go?”

\---------------------------------------

Sam and Jess had reserved seats at someplace downtown. Nothing too fancy, but it was nicer than the bars and diners Dean was used to and he couldn’t help but feel out of place. They sat down at the table and ordered drinks (Cas was reluctant to order at all, but Dean had pointed out that it would be suspicious if he didn’t and hesitantly agreed). 

They sat discussing Phil and Jackie’s plans and lives, with Dean and Cas occasionally answering a question or two until the conversation had shifted to be about them.

“So, Dean, Cas what have you two been up to?” Jess asked with a smile that said,  _ Sorry to put you on the spot _ .

Cas and Dean exchanged a quick look, and then Dean shrugged, “Mostly just working on cases, right now. Working on some... home improvement too.”

“A little DIY?” Phil asked with a chuckle.

Dean laughed, “Yeah, something like that. I’ve been planning to turn the, uh, guest bedroom into a game room.”

Sam grinned, “Dude, that’s awesome.”

“Yeah.” Dean laughed, “I’m thinking about getting a foosball table, maybe a tv even.”

“Big plans,” Sam commented as he shrugged his jacket on (it looked a size too small. Dean noted in the back of his mind that maybe he could get him a new one for Christmas. 

\--------------------------

Dean and Cas had stayed the night at Sam and Jess’ place after dinner (or rather Dean slept while Cas caught up on the different fashion magazines Jess kept in their living room). In the morning, they’d sat together in the dining room and talked for a while.

“So what case are you guys working on next?” Sam had asked between bites of eggs and hashbrowns.

“A vengeful spirit in Ohio.” Dean answered with a shrug, “Bloody Mary.”

Jess blinked, “Like…  _ the _ Bloody Mary?”

Dean grinned, “One of them.”

“ _ One of them?” _

“It's, uh, more than a long story.”

Then their conversation had progressed like any normal group of people because that’s the kind of life Sammy deserved and damn right Dean was going to sit there and play his part. And, yeah, okay maybe Dean had mentioned that buying stock in Apple, Amazon, and Google was a good idea because he had ‘friends on the inside’ but that was his business and no one else's.

They’d left Palo Alto at noon to drive back to Lebanon, bags tossed casually into Baby’s trunk and Led Zeppelin blaring out the open windows.

And as Dean drove he thought that maybe that apple pie life didn’t sound so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to ramp up the domesticity in this chapter just because I started outlining future angst teehee. When I said this was a slow burn I meant a REALLY slow burn. I have plans to continue this fic with a MINIMUM of 15 more chapters lmfao. I also included Sam and Jess just bc I love them lol. I'm trying to really up the foreshadowing, but I don't think I have enough so that's something to work on. Anyways! Everyday updates for the next week woohoo!!! then we'll go to a Tuesday schedule because I'm super busy sjdfjshdbj. As always, comments are VERY appreciated mwah <3 see u tmrw base
> 
> ALSO!!! For those of you who have been reading Something Like Drowning (if ur into spn u should go check it out wink wink) expect the finale of the series sometime in the next week or so!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Whomp. Pretty much inspired by every other time travel fic that exists. Any who, please let me know what you think, it means a lot <3


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